_Caucasia Falls Silent_
As the scores of amphibian monsters came lumbering forth upon dry land
it became instantly apparent why the aero-subs had returned to the
mother ships. For a few moments, out of the water, the amphibians were
almost helpless, with practically no way of attack or defense--as
helpless as huge turtles turned legs up.
But as each aero-sub entered its proper slot in the side of the mother
amphibian, it was turned about and the nose thrust back into the
opening, which closed down to fit tightly about the nose of the
aero-sub, so that those flame-breathing monsters protruded from the
sides of the amphibians in many places--transforming the amphibians into
monsters with hundreds of golden, licking tongues!
As, with each and every aero-sub in place, the amphibians started moving
inland, Professor Maniel made his first move. With the tiny apparatus
upon which he had been working, he stepped to the table before the
Sound-and-Vision apparatus and spoke softly to his compatriots.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I have finished, and it will work effectively!"
Though Maniel spoke softly, it was plain to be seen that he was proud of
his accomplishment, which remained only to be attached to start
performance.
A matter of seconds....
Yet during those seconds was the real might, the real power for utter
devastation, of Moyen fully exposed!
* * * * *
The amphibians got under way as the airplanes of the Americas swept into
the fight.
From the sides of the monsters licked out those golden tongues of
flame--and from the front.
Half a dozen amphibians slipped into New York from the harbor side and
started into the heart of the city. And between the time when Maniel had
said he was ready and the moment when he made his first active move
against Moyen, a half-dozen skyscrapers vanished into nothingness, the
spots where they had stood swept as clear of debris as though the land
had never been reclaimed from Nature!
None was ever destined to know how many lives were lost in that first
attack of the monsters of the golden, myriad tongues; but the monsters
struck in the midst of a working day when the skyscrapers were filled
with office workers.
And resolve struck deep into the hearts of the Secret Agents: if Moyen
were turned back, he must be made to pay for the slaughter.
A matter of seconds....
* * * * *
Then a moment of deathly silence as Munson gave way at the screen for
the gnomelike little Professor Maniel.
"Now, gentlemen!" snapped Maniel. "If my theory is correct,"
manipulating instruments with lightning speed as he talked, "the
reversion of the principle of my Vibration-Retarder--which captures
vibrations speeding outward from the earth and transforms them once
again into sound and pictures audible and visible to the human ear--this
apparatus will disintegrate the monsters as our boats and planes were
disintegrated!
"In this I have even been compelled to manipulate in the matter of
time! I must not only defeat and annihilate the minions of Moyen, but
must work from a mathematical absurdity, so that at the moment of impact
that moment itself must become part of the past, sufficiently remote to
remove the monsters at such distance from the earth that not even the
mighty genius of Moyen can return them!"
The whirring, gentle as the whirring of doves' wings. In the center of
the picture on the screen were those half-dozen amphibians laying waste
Manhattan. Maniel set his intricate, delicate machinery into motion.
Instantly the amphibians there seemed to become misty, shadowy, and to
lift out of Manhattan up above the roof-tops of skyscrapers still
remaining, nebulous and wraithlike as ghost-shrouds--yet swinging
outward from the earth with speed almost too swift for the eye to
detect.
But where the amphibians had rested there stood, reclined--in all sorts
of postures, surprising and even a bit ridiculous--the men of Moyen who
had operated the monsters of Moyen!
* * * * *
From the Central Radio tower went forth a mighty voice of command to the
planes which had been engaging the aero-subs off the coast.
"Slay! Slay!"
Down flashed the planes of the Americas, and their guns were blazing,
inaudibly, but none the less deadly of aim and of purpose, straight into
the midst of the men of Moyen who had thus been left marooned and almost
helpless with the vanishing of their amphibians.
And, noting how they fell in strangled, huddled heaps before the
vengeful fire of the American planes, the Secret Agents sighed, and
Maniel, his face alight with the pride of accomplishment, switched to
another point along the coast.
And as a new group of the monsters of Moyen came into view, and Maniel
bent to his labors afresh, the hated voice of the master mobster broke
once more in the Secret Room.
"Enough, Kleig! Enough! We will surrender to save lives! I stipulate
only that my own life be spared!"
To which Prester Kleig made instant reply.
"Did you offer us choice of surrender? Did you spare the lives of our
people which, with your control of your golden rays, you could easily
have done? No! Nor will we spare lives, least of all the life of Moyen!"
The whirring again, as of the whirring of doves' wings. More metal
monsters, even as golden tongues spewed forth from their many sides,
vanished from view, leaping skyward, while the operators of them were
left to the mercies of the remaining airmen of the Americans.
* * * * *
Voicelessly the word went forth:
"Slay! Slay!"
It was Charmion who begged for mercy for the vanquished as, one by one,
as surely as fate, the monsters with their contained aero-subs were
blotted out, leaving pilots and operators behind them. Down upon these
dropped the airmen of the West, slaying without mercy....
"Please, lover!" Charmion whispered. "Spare them!"
"Even...?" he began, thinking of Moyen, who would have taken Charmion.
He felt her shudder as she read his mind, understood what he would have
asked.
"There he is!" came softly from Munson.
An amphibian had just been disintegrated, had just climbed mistily,
swiftly, into invisibility in the skies. And there in the midst of the
conquerors left behind, his angel's face set in a moody mask, his pale
eyes awful with fear, his misshapen body sagging, terrible in its
realization of failure, was Moyen!
Even as Kleig prepared to give the mercy signal, a plane dived down on
the group about Moyen, and the Secret Agents could see the hand of the
pilot, lifted high, as though he signaled.
The plane was a Mayther! The pilot was Carlos Kane!
* * * * *
Just as Kane went into action, and the noiseless bullets from his ship
crashed into that twisted body, causing it to jump and twitch with the
might of them, Prester Kleig gave the signal.
Even as the figure of Moyen crashed to the soil and the man's soul
quitted its mortal casement, Kleig commanded:
"Spare all who surrender! Make them prisoners, to be used to repair the
damage they have done to our country! Guards will be instantly placed
over the amphibians and the aero-subs--for the day may come when we
shall need to know their secrets!"
And, as men, hands lifted high in token of surrender, quitted the now
motionless amphibians, and flyers dropped down to make them prisoners,
Maniel sighed, pressed various buttons on his apparatus, and the mad
scene of carnage they had witnessed for hours faded slowly out, and
darkness and silence filled the Secret Room.
But darkness is the joy of lovers, and in the midst of silence that was
almost appalling by contrast, Kleig and Charmion were received into each
other's arms.
+---------------------------+
| Everyone Is Invited |
| _To "Come Over in_ |
| 'THE READERS' CORNER'"! |
+---------------------------+
Vampires of Venus
_By Anthony Pelcher_
[Illustration: _He seized a short knife and threw himself forward._]
Leslie Larner, an entomologist borrowed from the Earth, pits himself
against the night-flying vampires that are ravaging the inhabitants
of Venus.
It was as if someone had thrown a bomb into a Quaker meeting, when
adventure suddenly began to crowd itself into the life of the studious
and methodical Leslie Larner, professor of entomology.
Fame had been his since early manhood, when he began to distinguish
himself in several sciences, but the adventure and thrills he had longed
for had always fallen to the lot of others.
His father, a college professor, had left him a good working brain and
nothing else. Later his mother died and he was left with no relatives in
the world, so far as he knew. So he gave his life over to study and hard
work.
Still youthful at twenty-five, he was hoping that fate would "give him
a break." It did.
He was in charge of a Government department having to do with Oriental
beetles, Hessian flies, boll weevils and such, and it seemed his life
had been just one bug after another. He took creeping, crawling things
seriously and believed that, unless curbed, insects would some day crowd
man off the earth. He sounded an alarm, but humanity was not disturbed.
So Leslie Larner fell back on his microscope and concerned himself with
saving cotton, wheat and other crops. His only diversion was fishing for
the elusive rainbow trout.
He managed to spend a month each year in the Colorado Rockies angling
for speckled beauties.
Larner was anything but a clock-watcher, but on a certain bright day in
June he was seated in his laboratory doing just that.
"Just five minutes to go," he mused.
It was just 4:25 P. M. He had finished his work, put his affairs in
order, and in five minutes would be free to leave on a much needed and
well earned vacation. His bags were packed and at the station. His
fishing tackle, the pride of his young life, was neatly rolled in oiled
silk and stood near at hand.
"I'll just fill my calabash, take one more quiet smoke, and then for the
mountains and freedom," he told himself. He settled back with his feet
on his desk. He half closed his eyes in solid comfort. Then the bomb
fell and exploded.
* * * * *
B-r-r-r-r!
The buzzer on his desk buzzed and his feet came off the desk and hit the
floor with a thud. His eyes popped open and the calabash was immediately
laid aside.
That buzzer usually meant business, and it would be his usual luck to
have trouble crash in on him just as he was on the edge of a rainbow
trout paradise.
A messenger was ushered into the room by an assistant. The boy handed
him an envelope, said, "No answer," and departed.
Larner tore open the envelope lazily. He read and then re-read its
contents, while a look of puzzled surprise disturbed his usually placid
countenance. He spread the sheet of paper out on his desk, and for the
tenth time he read:
Confidential.
Memorize this address and destroy this paper:
Tula Bela, 1726 88th Street, West, City of Hesper, Republic of
Pana, Planet Venus.
Will meet you in the Frying Pan.
That was all. It was enough. Larner lost his temper. He crumpled the
paper and tossed it in the waste basket. He was not given to profanity,
but he could say "Judas Priest" in a way that sizzled.
"Judas Priest!" he spluttered. "Anyone who would send a man a crazy
bunch of nonsense like that, at a time like this, ought to be snuffed
out like a beetle!
"'Meet you in the Frying Pan,'" he quoted. Then he happened to recall
something. "By golly, there is a fishing district in Colorado known as
the Frying Pan. That's not so crazy, but the planet Venus part surely is
cuckoo."
He fished the paper out of the waste basket, found the envelope, placed
the strange message within and put it in his inside coat pocket. Then he
seized his suitcase and fishing tackle, and, rushing out, hailed a taxi.
Not long after he was on his way west by plane.
* * * * *
As the country unrolled under him he retrieved the strange note from his
pocket. He read it again and again. Then he examined the envelope. It
was an ordinary one of good quality, designed for business rather than
social usage. The note paper appeared quite different. It was unruled,
pure white, and of a texture which might be described as pebbly. It was
strongly made, and of a nature unlike any paper Larner had ever seen
before. It appeared to have been made from a fiber rather than a pulp.
"Wonder who wrote it?" Larner asked himself. "It is beautiful
handwriting, masculine yet artistic. Wonder where he got the Frying Pan
idea? At any rate, I'm not going to the Frying Pan this year--I'm
camping on Tennessee Creek, in Lake County, Colorado. The country there
is more beautiful and restful.
"But this street address on the planet Venus. Seems to me I read
somewhere that Marconi had received mysterious signals that he believed
came from the planet Venus. Hesper, Hesper ... it sounds familiar,
somehow. Wonder if there could be anything to it?"
Something impelled him to follow out the instructions in the note. He
spent the next few hours repeating the address over and over again. When
he was satisfied that he had memorized it thoroughly, he tore the
strange paper into bits and sent it fluttering earthward like a tiny
snowstorm.
Larner was not a gullible individual, but neither was he unimaginative.
He was scientist enough to know that "the impossibilities of to-day are
the accomplishments of to-morrow." So while not convinced that the note
was a serious communication, still his mind was open.
The weird address insisted on creeping into his mind and driving out
other thoughts, even those of his speckled playfellows, the rainbow
trout.
"I've a notion to change my plans and go from Denver to the Frying Pan,"
he cogitated. Then he thought, "No, I won't take it that seriously."
* * * * *
Anyone who knows the Colorado Rockies knows paradise. There is no more
beautiful country on the globe. Lake County, where Larner had chosen
his fishing grounds, has as its seat the old mining camp of Leadville.
It has been visited and settled more for its gold mines than the golden
glow of its sunsets above the clouds, but the gold of the sunsets is
eternal, while the gold of the mines is fading quickly away.
Leadville, with its 5,000 inhabitants, nestles above the clouds, at an
altitude of more than 10,000 feet. Mount Massive with its three peaks
lies back of the town in panorama and rises to a height of some 14,400
feet. In the rugged mountains thereabouts are hundreds of lakes fed by
wild streams and bubbling crystal springs. All these lakes are above the
clouds.
Winter sees the whole picture decorated with bizarre snowdrifts from
twenty to forty feet deep, but spring comes early. The beautiful
columbines and crocuses bloom before the snow is all off the ground in
the valleys. The lands up to 12,000 feet altitude are carpeted with a
light green grass and moss. Giant pines and dainty aspens, with their
silvery bark and pinkish leaves blossom forth and whisper, while the
eternal snows still linger in the higher rocky cliffs and peaks above.
Indian-paint blooms its blood red in contrast to the milder colorings.
Blackbirds and bluebirds chatter and chipmunks chirp. The gold so hard
to find in the mines glares from the skies. The hills cuddle in banks of
snowy clouds, and above all a pure clear blue sky sweeps. The lakes and
streams abound with rainbow trout, the gamest of any fresh water fish.
It is indeed a paradise for either poet or sportsman.
In any direction near to Leadville a man can find Heaven and recreation
and rest.
Finding himself on Harrison Avenue, the main street of the county seat,
Larner, after renewing some old acquaintanceships, started west in a
flivver for Tennessee Creek. The flivver is a modern adjustment. Until
a few years ago the only means of traversing these same hills was by
patient, sure-footed donkeys, which carried the pack while the wayfarer
walked along beside.
* * * * *
The first day's fishing was good. Trout seemed to greet him cheerily and
sprang eagerly to the fray. They bit at any sort of silken fly he cast.
The site chosen by Larner for his camp was in a mossy clearing separated
from the stream by a fringe of willows along the creek. Then came a
border of aspens backed by a forest of silver-tipped firs.
It was ideal and his eyes swept the scene with satisfaction. Then he
began whittling bacon to grease his pan for frying trout over the open
fire.
Suddenly he heard a rustle in the aspens, and, looking up, beheld a
picture which made his eyes bulge. A man and a woman, garbed seemingly
in the costumes of another world, walked toward him. Neither were more
than five feet tall but were physically perfect, and marvelously
pleasing to the eye. There was little difference in their dress.
Both wore helmets studded with what Larner believed to be sapphires. He
learned later they were diamonds. Their clothing consisted of tight
trouserlike garments surmounted by tunics of some white pelt resembling
chamois save for color. A belt studded with precious stones encircled
their waists. Artistic laced sandals graced their small firm feet.
Their skin was a pinkish white. Their every feature was perfection plus,
and their bodies curved just enough wherever a curve should be. The
woman was daintier and more fully developed, and her features were even
more finely chiseled than the man. Otherwise it would have been
difficult to distinguish their sex.
Larner took in these details subconsciously, for he was awed beyond
expression. All he could do was to stand seemingly frozen, half bent
over the campfire with his frying pan in his hand.
* * * * *
The man spoke.
"I hope we did not startle you," he said. "I thought my note would
partly prepare you for this meeting. We expected to find you in the
Frying Pan district. When you did not appear there we tuned our radio
locator to your heart beats and in that way located you here. It was
hardly a second's space-flying time from where we were."
Larner said nothing. He could only stand and gape.
"I do not wonder that you are surprised," said the strange little man.
"I will explain that I am Nern Bela, of the City of Hesper, on the
planet Venus. This is my sister Tula. We greet you in the interest of
the Republic of Pana, which embraces all of the planet you know as
Venus."
When Larner recovered his breath, he lost his temper.
"I don't know what circus you escaped from, but I crave solitude and I
have no time to be bothered with fairy tales," he said with brutal
bruskness.
Expressions of hurt surprise swept the countenances of his visitors.
The man spoke again:
"We are just what we assert we are, and our finding you was made
necessary by a condition which grieves the souls of all the 900,000,000
inhabitants of Venus. We have come to plead with you to come with us and
use your scientific knowledge to thwart a scourge which threatens the
lives of millions of people."
There was a quiet dignity about the man and an air of pride about the
woman which made Larner stop and think, or try to. He rubbed his hand
over his brow and looked questioningly at the pair.
"If you are what you say you are, how did you get here?" he asked.
"We came in a targo, a space-flying ship, capable of doing 426,000 miles
an hour. This is just 1200 times as fast as 355 miles an hour, the
highest speed known on earth. Come with us and we will show you our
ship." They looked at him appealingly, and both smiled a smile of
wistful friendliness.
Larner, without a word, threw down his frying pan and followed them
through the aspens. The brother and sister walking ahead of him gave his
eyes a treat. He surveyed the perfect form of the girl. Her perfection
was beyond his ken.
"They certainly are not of this world," he mused.
* * * * *
A few hundred yards farther on there was a beach of pebbles, where the
stream had changed its course. On this plot sat a gigantic spherical
machine of a glasslike material. It was about 300 feet in diameter and
it was tapered on two sides into tees which Larner rightly took to be
lights.
"This is a targo, our type of space-flyer," said Nern Bela. "It is
capable of making two trips a year between Venus and the earth. We have
visited this planet often, always landing in some mountain or jungle
fastness as heretofore we did not desire earth-dwellers to know of our
presence."
"Why not?" asked Larner, his mouth agape and his eyes protruding. His
mind was so full of questions that he fairly blurted his first one.
"Because," said Bela, slowly and frankly, "because our race knows no
sickness and we feared contagion, as your race has not yet learned to
control its being."
"Oh," said Lamer thoughtfully. He realized that humans of the earth,
whom he had always regarded as God's most perfect beings, were not so
perfect after all.
"How do you people control your being, as you express it?" he asked.
"It is simple," was the reply. "For ninety centuries we have ceased to
breed imperfection, crime and disease. We deprived no one of the
pleasures of life, but only the most perfect mental and physical
specimens of our people cared to have children. In other words, while we
make no claim to controlling our sex habits, we do control results."
"Oh," said Larner again.
Nern Bela led the way to a door which opened into the side of the
space-flyer near its base. "We have a crew of four men and four women,"
he said. "They handle the entire ship, with my sister and I in command,
making six souls aboard in all."
"Why men and women?" thought Larner.
As if in answer to his thought Bela said:
"On the earth the two sexes have struggled for sex supremacy. This has
thrown your civilization out of balance. On Venus we have struggled for
sex equality and have accomplished it. This is a perfect balance. Man
and women engage in all endeavor and share all favors and rewards
alike."
"In war, too?" asked Larner.
"There has not been war on Venus for 600,000 years," said Bela. "There
is only the one nation, and the people all live in perfect accord. Our
only trouble in centuries is a dire peril which now threatens our
people, and it is of this that I wish to talk to you more at length."
* * * * *
They were standing close to the targo. Larner was struck by the peculiar
material of which it was constructed. There was a question in his eyes,
and Nern Bela answered it:
"The metal is duranium; it is metalized quartz. It is frictionless,
conducts no current or ray except repulsion and attraction ray NTR69X6
by which it is propelled. It is practically transparent, lighter than
air and harder than a diamond. It is cast in moulds after being melted
or, rather, fused.
"We use cold light which we produce by forcing oxygen through air tubes
into a vat filled with the fat of a deep sea fish resembling your whale.
You are aware, of course, that that is exactly how cold light is
produced by the firefly, except for the fact that the firefly uses his
own fat."
Larner was positively fascinated. He smoothed the metal of the targo in
appreciation of its marvelous construction, but he longed most to see
the curious light giving mechanism, for this was closer to his own line
of entomology. He had always believed that the light giving organs of
fireflys and deep-sea fishes could be reproduced mechanically.
The interior of the ship resembled in a vague way that of an ocean
liner. It was controlled by an instrument board at which a man and a
girl sat. They did not raise their heads as the three people entered.
When called by Bela and his sister, who seemed to give commands in
unison, the crew assembled and were presented to the visitor.
"Earth-dwellers are not the curiosity to us that we seem to be to you,"
said Tula Bela, speaking for the first time and smiling sweetly.
Larner was too engrossed to note the remark further than to nod his
head. He was lost in contemplation of these strange people, all garbed
exactly alike and all surpassingly lovely to look upon.
* * * * *
An odor of food wafted from the galley, and Larner remembered he was
hungry, with the hunger of health. He had swung his basket of fish over
his shoulder when he left his campfire, and Tula took it from him.
"Would you like to have our chef prepare them for you?" she said, as she
caught his hungry glance at his day's catch. This time Larner answered
her.
"If you will pardon me," he said awkwardly. "Really I am famished."
"You will not miss your fish dinner," said the girl.
"I believe there is enough for all of us," said Larner. "I caught twenty
beauties. I never knew fish to bite like that. Why, they--" and he was
off on a voluminous discourse on a favorite subject.
Those assembled listened sympathetically. Then Tula took the fish, and
soon the aroma of broiling trout mingled with the other entrancing
galley odors.
After a dinner at which some weird yet satisfying viands were served and
much unusual conversation indulged in, Nern Bela led the way to what
appeared to be the captain's quarters. The crew and their visitor sat
down to discuss a subject which proved to be of such a terrifying nature
as to scar human souls.
"People on Venus," said Nern, as his eyes took on a worried expression,
"are unable to leave their homes after nightfall due to some strange
nocturnal beast which attacks them and vampirishly drains all blood from
their veins, leaving the dead bodies limp and empty."
"What? How?" questioned Larner leaning far forward over the conference
table.
The others nodded their heads, and in the eyes of the women there was
terror. Larner could not but believe this.
"The beasts, or should I say insects, are as large as your horses and
they fly, actually fly, by night, striking down humans, domestic animals
and all creatures of warm blood. How many there are we have no means of
knowing, and we cannot find their hiding and breeding places. They are
not native to our planet, and where they come from we cannot imagine.
They are actually monstrous flys, or bugs, or some form of insects."
* * * * *
Larner was overcome by incredulity and showed it. "Insects as big as
horses?" he questioned and he could hardly suppress a smile.
"Believe us, in the name of the God of us all," insisted Nern. "They
have a mouth which consists of a large suction disk, in the center of
which is a lancelike tongue. The lance is forced into the body at any
convenient point, and the suction disk drains out the blood. If we only
knew their source! They attack young children and the aged, up to five
hundred years, alike."
"What! Five hundred years?" exploded Larner again.
"I should have explained," said Nern, simply, "that Venus dwellers, due
to our advanced knowledge of sanitation and health conversation, live
about 800 years and then die invariably of old age. The only unnatural
cause of death encountered is this giant insect. Accidents do occur, but
they are rare. There are no deliberate killings on Venus."
Larner did not answer. He only pondered. The more he ran over the
strange happenings of the last week in his mind the more he believed he
was dreaming. His thoughts took a strange turn: "Why do these vain
people go around dressed in jeweled ornaments?"
Nern again anticipated a question. "Diamonds, gold and many of what you
call precious stones are common on Venus," he volunteered. "Talc and
many other things are more valuable."
"Talc?"
"Yes, we use an immense quantity of it. We have a wood that is harder
than your steel. We build machinery with it. We cannot use oil to
lubricate these wooden shafts and bearings as it softens the wood, so
all parts exposed to friction are sprayed constantly by a gust of talc
from a blower.
"You use talc mostly for toilet purposes. We use it for various
purposes. There is little left on Venus, and it is more valuable to us
than either gold or diamonds. We draw on your planet now for talc. You
dump immense quantities. We just shipped one hundred 1,000-ton globes of
it from the Cripple Creek district, and the district never missed it. We
drew most of it from your mine dumps."
* * * * *
Nern tried not to look bored as he explained more in detail: "We brought
100 hollow spheres constructed of duranium. We suspended these over the
Cripple Creek district at an altitude of 10,000 feet above the earth's
surface. Because of the crystal glint of duranium they were invisible to
earth dwellers at that height. Then we used a suction draft at night,
drawing the talc from the earth, filling one drum after another. This is
done by tuning in a certain selective attraction that attracts only
talc. It draws it right out of your ground in tiny particles and
assembles it in the transportation drums as pure talc. On the earth, if
noticed at all, it would have been called a dust storm.
"The drums, when loaded with talc, are set to attract the proper
planetary force and they go speeding toward Venus at the rate of 426,000
miles an hour. They are prevented from colliding with meteors by an
automatic magnetic device. This is controlled by magnetic force alone,
and when the targo gets too close to a meteor it changes its course
instantly. The passenger targo we ride in acts similarly. And now may I
return to the subject of the vampires of Venus?"
"Pardon my ignorance," said Larner, and for the first time in his life
he felt very ignorant indeed.
"I know little more than I have told you," said Nern, rather hopelessly.
"Our knowledge of your world, your people and your language comes from
our listening in on you and observing you without being observed or
heard. This might seem like taking an advantage of you, were it not for
the fact that we respect confidences, and subjugate all else to science.
We have helped you at times, by telepathically suggesting ideas to your
thinkers.
"We would have given you all our inventions in this way, gladly, but in
many instances we were unable to find minds attuned to accept such
advanced ideas. We have had the advantage of you because our planet is
so many millions of years older than your own." There was a plaintive
note in Nern's voice as he talked.
* * * * *
"But now we are on our knees to you, so to speak. We do not know
everything and, desperately, we need the aid of a man of your caliber.
In behalf of the distraught people of Venus, I am asking you bluntly to
make a great sacrifice. Will you face the dangers of a trip to Venus and
use your knowledge to aid us in exterminating these creatures of hell?"
There was positive pleading in his voice, and in the eyes of his
beautiful sister there were tears.
"But what would my superiors in the Government Bureau think?" feebly
protested Larner, "I could not explain...."
"You have no superiors in your line. Our Government needs you at this
time more than any earthly government. Your place here is a fixture. You
can always return to it, should you live. We are asking you to face a
horrible death with us. You can name your own compensation, but I know
you are not interested so much in reward.
"Now, honestly, my good professor, there is no advantage to be gained by
explanation. Just disappear. In the name of God and in the interests of
science and the salvation of a people who are at your mercy, just drop
out of sight. Drop out of life on this planet. Come with us. The cause
is worthy of the man I believe you to be."
"I will go," said Larner, and his hosts waited for no more. An instant
later the targo shot out into interstellar space.
"How do you know what course to follow?" asked Larner after a reasonable
time, when he had recovered from his surprise at the sudden take-off.
"We do not need to know. Our machine is tuned to be attracted by the
planetary force of Venus alone. We could not go elsewhere. A repulsion
ray finds us as we near Venus and protects us against too violent a
landing. We will land on Venus like a feather about three months from
to-night."
The time of the journey through outer space was of little moment save
for one incident. Larner and the other travelers were suddenly and
rather rudely jostled about the rapidly flying craft.
Larner lost his breath but not his speech. "What happened?" he inquired.
"We just automatically dodged a meteor," explained Nern.
* * * * *
Most of the time of the trip was spent by Larner in listening to
explanations of customs and traditions of the people of the brightest
planet in the universe.
There was a question Larner had desired to ask Nern Bela, yet he
hesitated to do so. Finally one evening during the journey to Venus,
when the travelers had been occupying themselves in a scientific
discussion of comparative evolution on the two planets, Larner saw his
opportunity.
"Why," he asked rather hesitatingly, "did the people of Venus always
remain so small? Why did you not strive more for height? The Japanese,
who are the shortest in stature of earth people, always wanted to be
tall."
"Without meaning any offense," replied Nern, "I must say that it is
characteristic of earth dwellers to want something without knowing any
good reason why they want it. It is perfectly all right for you people
to be tall, but for us it is not so fitting. You see, Venus is smaller
than the earth. Size is comparative. You think we are not tall because
you are used to taller people. Comparatively we are tall enough. In
proportion to the size of our planet we are exactly the right size. We
keep our population at 900,000,000, and that is the perfectly exact
number of people who can live comfortably on our planet."
* * * * *
Arriving on Venus, Larner was assigned a laboratory and office in one of
the Government buildings. It was a world seemingly made of glass.
Quartz, of rose, white and crystal coloring, Larner found, was the
commonest country rock of the planet. In many cases it was shot full of
splinters of gold which the natives had not taken the trouble to
recover. This quartz was of a terrific hardness and was used in
building, paving, and public works generally. The effect was
bewildering. It was a world of shimmering crystal.
The atmosphere of Venus had long puzzled Larner. While not an astronomer
in the largest sense of the word, yet he had a keen interest in the
heavens as a giant puzzle picture, and he had given some spare time to
the study.
He knew that from all indications Venus had a most unusual atmosphere.
He had read that the atmosphere was considerably denser than that of the
earth, and that its presence made observation difficult. The actual
surface of the planet he knew could hardly be seen due, either to this
atmosphere, or seemingly perpetual cloud banks.
He had read that the presence of atmosphere surrounding Venus is
indicated to earthly astronomers, during the planet's transit, by rings
of light due to the reflection and scattering of collected sunlight by
its atmosphere.
Astronomers on earth, he knew, had long been satisfied of the presence
of great cloud banks, as rocks and soils could not have such high
reflecting power. He knew that like the moon, Venus, when viewed from
the earth, presents different phases from the crescent to the full or
total stage.
Looking up at the sky from the quartz streets of Venus, Larner beheld,
in sweeping grandeur, massed cloud banks, many of them apparently rain
clouds.
Nern noted his skyward gaze, and said:
"We have accomplished meteorological control. Those clouds were brought
under control when we conquered interplanetary force, and what you call
gravity. We form them and move them at will. They are our rain factory.
We make rain when and where we will. This insures our crops and makes
for health and contentment.
"The air, you will note, is about the same or a little more moist than
the earth air at sea level. This is due to the planet's position nearer
the sun.
"We have been striving for centuries to make the air a little drier and
more rare, but we have not succeeded yet. The heavy content of
disintegrated quartz in our soil makes moisture very necessary for our
crops, so our moist atmosphere is evidently a provision of providence.
We are used to breathing this moist air, and when I first visited the
earth I was made uncomfortable by your rarified atmosphere. Now I can
adjust myself to breathing the air of either planet. However, I find
myself drinking a great deal more water on earth than on Venus."
* * * * *
In this fairyland which had enjoyed centuries of peace, health and
accord, stark terror now reigned. In some instances the finely-bred,
marvellously intelligent people were in a mental condition bordering on
madness.
This was especially true in the farming districts, where whole herds of
lats had been wiped out. Lats, Larner gleaned, were a common farm animal
similar to the bovine species on earth, only more wooly. On these
creatures the Venus dwellers depended for their milk and dairy supplies,
and for their warmer clothing, which was made from the skin. The hair
was used for brushes, in the building trades, and a thousand ways in
manufacturing.
Besides the domestic animals hundreds of people continued to meet death,
and only a few of the flying vampires had been hunted down. The giant
insects were believed to breed slowly as compared to earth insects,
their females producing not more than ten eggs, by estimate, after which
death overtook the adult. In spite of this they were reported to be
increasing.
In the Government building Larner was placed in touch with all the
Government scientists of Venus. His nearest collaborator was one Zorn
Zada, most profound scientist of the planet. The two men, with a score
of assistants, worked elbow to elbow on the most gigantic scientific
mystery in the history of two planets.
A specimen of the dread invader was mounted and studied by the
scientists, who were so engrossed in their work that they hardly took
time to eat. As for sleep, there was little of it. Days were spent in
research and nights in hunting the monsters. This hunting was done by
newly recruited soldiers and scientists. The weapons used were a short
ray-gun of high destructive power which disintegrated the bodies of the
enemies by atomic energy blasts. The quarry was wary, however, and
struck at isolated individuals rather than massed fighting lines.
* * * * *
Seated at his work-bench Larner asked Zorn Zada what had become of Nern
Bela. In his heart he had a horrible lurking fear that the beautiful
Tula Bela might fall before a swarm of the strange vampires, but he did
not voice this anxiety.
"Nern and his sister are explorers and navigators," was the reply. "They
have been assigned to carry you anywhere on this or any other planet
where your work may engage you. They await your orders. They are too
valuable as space-navigators to be placed in harm's way."
Breathing a sigh of relief, Larner bent to his labors.
"What other wild animals or harmful insects have you on this planet?" he
asked Zorn.
"I get your thought," replied the first scientist of Venus. "You are
seeking a natural enemy to this deadly flying menace, are you not?"
"Yes," admitted Larner.
"All insects left on Venus with this one exception are beneficial," said
Zorn. "There are no wild animals, and no harmful insects. All animals,
insects and birds have been domesticated and are fed by their keepers.
We get fabrics from forms of what you call spiders and other
web-builders and cocoon spinners. All forms of birds, beasts and
crawling and flying things have been brought under the dominion of man.
We will have to seek another way out than by finding an enemy parasite."
"Where do you think these insect invaders came from?" asked Larner.
"You have noticed they are unlike anything you have on earth in
anatomical construction," said the savant. "They partake of the general
features of Coleoptera (beetles), in that they wear a sheath of armor,
yet their mouth parts are more on the order of the Diptera (flys). I
regard them more as a fly than a beetle, because most Coleoptera are
helpful to humanity while practically all, if not all, Diptera are
malignant.
"As to their original habitat, I believe they migrated here from some
other planet."
"They could not fly through space," said Larner.
"No, that is the mystery of it," agreed Zorn. "How they got here and
where they breed are the questions that we have to answer."
* * * * *
Long days passed on Venus. Long days and sleepless nights. The big
insects were hunted nightly by men armed with ray-guns, and nightly the
blood-sucking monsters took their toll of humanity and animals.
Finally Larner and Zorn determined to capture one of the insects alive,
muzzle its lance and suction pad, and give it sufficient freedom to find
its way back to its hiding place. By following the shackled monster the
scientists hoped to find the breeding grounds.
All the provinces of the planet joined in the drive. Men turned out in
automatic vehicles, propelled by energy gathered from the atmosphere.
They came on foot and in aircraft. Mobilization was at given points and,
leading the van, were Zorn and Larner and their confreres in the targo
of Nern and Tula Bela. The great army of Venus carried giant
searchlights and was armed with deadly ray-guns.
* * * * *
Headquarters of the vast Army of Offense was in the targo of the Belas.
Larner was in supreme command. Just before the big army set out to scour
the planet to seek the breeding place of the monsters Larner issued a
bulletin that set all Venus by the ears.
Addressed to President Vole Vesta of the Republic of Pana and the good
people of Venus, it read:
As is generally known, it has been the habit of the nation's
space-flying merchantmen to visit the sunlit side of the planet
Mercury to obtain certain rare woods and other materials not found
on this planet.
One side of Mercury, as is known, is always turned from the sun and
is in a condition of perpetual night. In this perpetual darkness
and dampness, where many rivers flow into warm black swamps, the
vampires have bred for centuries. Conditions were ideal for their
growth, and so through the ages they evolved into the monsters we
have encountered lately on Venus.
During some comparatively recent visit to Mercury the grubs of
these insects have found their way abroad a vegetation-laden targo
left standing near the edge of the black swamps of Mercury. These
grubs were thus transported to Venus and underwent their natural
metamorphosis here. Reaching adult stage, they have found some
place to hide and breed, and thus is explained the origin of the
vampires of Venus.
This was widely read and discussed and was finally accepted as the means
of the invasion of peaceful, beautiful Venus by a horror that might well
have originated in hell.
However, this did not reveal the breeding grounds, or remove the
nation-wide scourge of the horrible winged vampires, so the mobilization
of all the forces of the planet continued.
* * * * *
As day followed day the hordes of fighting Venus dwellers grew in the
concentration camps. In the targo of the Belas, Larner, brain-weary and
body-racked as he was with overwork, found a grain of happiness in being
in the presence of Nern and his beautiful, petite sister.
With Zorn, Larner was supervising the construction of a big net of
strongly woven wire mesh, in which it was hoped to catch one of the
vampires. It was decided to bait the trap with a fat female lat.
Zorn, Larner and the Belas fared forth from the concentration camp
followed by a company of soldiers carrying the big net. Tula with her
own hand led the fat lat heifer. His eyes were filled with commiseration
for the poor animal.
Thousands of soldiers and citizenry, in fighting array, watched the
departure of the little group.
In a glade the trap was set and the net arranged to fall over the
monster once it attacked the calf. From a thicket, in utter darkness,
Zorn and Larner and the two Belas waited for the possible catch. The
whole nation stood awaiting the order to advance.
On the fourth night the vigil was rewarded in a manner frightful to
relate.
A clumsy flutter of giant wings broke the stillness.
The four waiting forms in the thicket rejoiced, believing the fat lat
was about to be attacked.
Onward came the approaching horror. The measured flap, flap of its
armored wings drawing nearer and nearer. Then, horror--horrors!
A feminine scream rent the air. Cries loud and shrill arose above a
hysterical feminine cry for help.
The monster had chosen Tula Bela for its prey!
* * * * *
Zorn exploded an alarm bomb. A compressed air siren brought the army
forward on the run. Giant floodlights began to light up the scene. The
blood of Larner and Nern froze.
The monster had borne the girl to the ground. Its frightful lance and
cupper was upraised to strike. Larner was the nearest and the quickest
to act. He grabbed for his ray-gun, swung at his belt. It was gone! In
horror he remembered he had left it at the base. He seized a short knife
and threw himself forward, rolling his body between that of the girl and
the descending lance and cupper.
As the lance pierced his shoulder Larner, in one wild gesture of frenzy,
drove his knife through the soft, yielding flesh of the vampire's organ
of suction.
Protected by no bony structure the snout of the monster was amputated.
The terrible creature had been disarmed of his most formidable weapon,
but he continued to fight. Larner felt the spikes on the monster's legs
tear at his flesh.
"Don't kill the thing," he shouted. "Bring on the net. For the love of
God bring on the net!" Then he lost consciousness.
It was daylight when Larner, somewhat weakened from loss of blood,
regained consciousness.
The beautiful Tula Bela was leaning over him.
She whispered comforting words to him in a language he did not fully
understand. She whispered happy exclamations in words he did not know
the meaning of, but the tone was unmistakably those of a sweetheart
towards her lover.
Finally, in answer to a true scientist's question in his eyes, she said
in English:
"They caught the thing alive. They await your order to advance."
"Let us be on our way," said Larner, and he started to arise.
"You are hardly strong enough," said Tula.
"Believe me, I am all right," insisted Larner, and after several trials
he got to his feet. His constitution was naturally strong and his will
was stronger, so he fought back all feelings of weakness and soon
announced himself ready to go ahead with the project at hand. For speed
was all important, and the young professor found himself unable to
remain inactive.
* * * * *
He rejoiced when Zorn told him that the big insect that had attacked
Tula Bela had been captured alive and had been kept well nourished by
lat's blood injected into its stomach.
With Zorn Larner went to inspect the hideous monstrosity and found it in
leash and straining. It was ready to be used to lead the way back to its
breeding place.
Its wings shackled, the lumbering insect floundered on its way straight
north. Ponderously and half blindly it crawled as the searchlights'
glare was kept far enough in advance to keep from blinding the monster.
True to instinct it finally brought up at early dawn under a high cliff
of smoky quartz. Here, in the great crevices, the drove of diabolical
vampires were hiding.
As the light struck their dens, they attempted clumsily to take wing,
but a interlacing network of devastating disintegrating rays from the
ray-guns shattered their bodies to dust, which was borne away by the
wind.
The next few months were spent in combing the quartz crags of Venus for
similar infested areas, but only the one breeding nest was found. The
scourge had been conquered in its first and only stronghold.
* * * * *
So ended the greatest reign of terror in the history of Venus.
Leslie Larner was given a vote of thanks, and riches were showered upon
him by the good people of the sky's brightest star.
His modesty was characteristic, and he insisted that his part in saving
humanity on the planet had been small.
Passage back to earth was offered him, but Nern and Tula Bela urged him
to say and live his life on Venus. This he finally agreed to do.
"If I returned," he said, "I would always be tempted to tell my
experiences while away, and there is not a jury in the world which would
account me sane after I had once spoken."
* * * * *
That the story of Larner's adventure reached earth dwellers at all is
due to the fact that Nern Bela on a subsequent visit to the earth
narrated it to a Colorado quartz miner. This miner, a bronzed and
bearded prospector for gold, stumbled on the targo in a mountain
fastness, and there was nought to do but make him welcome and pledge him
to secrecy.
The miner surveyed the crystal targo in rapt wonderment and said: "And
to think I am the only earth man who ever viewed such a craft!"
"No," answered Nern Bela, "there is one other." And then the stirring
story of Leslie Larner's life on Venus was told.
SAFE FLYING IN FOGS
The outstanding development in aviation recently, and one of the most
significant so far in aviation history was the "blind" flight of Lieut.
James H. Doolittle, daredevil of the Army Air Corps, at Mitchel Field,
L. I., which led Harry P. Guggenheim, President of the Daniel Guggenheim
Fund for the Promotion of Aeronautics, Inc. to announce that the problem
of fog-flying, one of aviation's greatest bugbears, had been solved at
last.
There has been "blind flying" done in the past but never before in the
history of aviation has any pilot taken off, circled, crossed,
re-crossed the field, then landed only a short distance away from his
starting point while flying under conditions resembling the densest fog,
as Lieut. "Jimmy" Doolittle has done, in his Wright-motored "Husky"
training-plane. It was something uncanny to contemplate.
The "dense fog" was produced artificially by the simple device of making
the cabin of the plane entirely light-proof. Once seated inside, the
flyer, with his co-pilot, Lieut. Benjamin Kelsey, also of Mitchel Field,
were completely shut off from any view of the world outside. All they
had to depend on were three new flying instruments, developed during the
past year in experiments conducted over the full-flight laboratory
established by the Fund at Mitchel Field.
The chief factors contributing to the solution of the problem of blind
flying consist of a new application of the visual radio beacon, the
development of an improved instrument for indicating the longitudinal
and lateral position of an airplane, a new directional gyroscope, and a
sensitive barometric altimeter, so delicate as to measure the altitude
of an airplane within a few feet of the ground.
Thus, instead of relying on the natural horizon for stability, Lieut.
Doolittle uses an "artificial horizon" on the small instrument which
indicates longitudinal and lateral position in relation to the ground at
all time. He was able to locate the landing field by means of the
direction-finding long-distance radio beacon. In addition, another
smaller radio beacon had been installed, casting a beam fifteen to
twenty miles in either direction, which governs the immediate approach
to the field.
To locate the landing field the pilot watches two vibrating reeds, tuned
to the radio beacon, on a virtual radio receiver on his instrument
board. If he turns to the right or left of his course the right or left
reed, respectively, begins doing a sort of St. Vitus dance. If the reeds
are in equilibrium the pilot knows it is clear sailing straight to his
field.
The sensitive altimeter showed Lieut. Doolittle his altitude and made it
possible for him to calculate his landing to a distance of within a few
feet from the ground.
Probably the strangest device of all that Lieut. Doolittle has been
called upon to test in Mr. Guggenheim's war against fog is a sort of
heat cannon that goes forth to combat like a fire-breathing dragon of
old. Like the enemies of the dragon, the fog is supposed to curl up and
die before the scorching breath of the "hot air artillery" although the
fundamental principle behind the device is a great deal more scientific
than such an explanation sounds. It is, in brief, based on the known
fact that fog forms only in a very narrow temperature zone which lies
between the saturation and precipitation points of the atmosphere. If
the air grows a little colder the fog turns into rain and falls; if it
is warmed very slightly the mist disappears and the air is once more
normally clear, although its humidity is very close to the maximum.
Brigands of the Moon
(The Book of Gregg Haljan)
PART TWO OF A FOUR-PART NOVEL
_By Ray Cummings_
[Illustration: _I turned back to look at the Planetara._]
Out of awful space tumbled the Space-ship _Planetara_ towards the
Moon, her officers _dead_, with bandits at her helm--and the
controls out of order!
My name, Gregg Haljan. My age, twenty-five years. My occupation, at the
time my narrative begins, in 2075, was third officer of the
Interplanetary Space-ship _Planetara_.
Thus I introduce myself to you. For this is a continuation of the book
of Gregg Haljan, and of necessity I am the chief actor therein. I shall
recapitulate very briefly what has happened so far:
Unscrupulous Martian brigands were scheming for Johnny Grantline's
secret radium-ore treasure, dug out of the Moon and waiting there to be
picked up by the _Planetara_ on her return trip from Mars.
The _Planetara_ left, bound for Mars, some ten days away. Suspicious
interplanetary passengers were aboard: Miko and Moa, a brother and a
sister of Mars; Sir Arthur Coniston, a mysterious Englishman; Ob Hahn, a
Venus mystic. And small, effeminate George Prince and his sister, Anita.
Love, I think, was born instantly between Anita and me. I found all too
soon that Miko, the sinister giant from Mars, also desired her.
[Illustration]
As we neared the Moon we received Grantline's secret message: "Stop for
ore on your return voyage. Success beyond wildest hopes!" But I soon
discovered that an eavesdropper in an invisible cloak had overheard it!
Soon afterwards Miko accidentally murdered a person identified as Anita
Prince.
Then, in the confusion that resulted, Miko struck his great blow. The
crew of the _Planetara_, secretly in his pay, rose up and killed the
captain and all the officers but Snap Dean, the radio-helio operator,
and myself.
I was besieged in the chart-room. George Prince leaped in upon me--and
put his arms around me. I looked at him closer--only to discover it was
Anita, disguised as her brother! It was her brother, George, who had
been killed! George had been in the brigands' confidence--thus Anita was
able to spy for us.
Quickly we plotted. I would surrender to her, Anita Prince, whom the
brigands thought was George Prince. Together we might possibly be able,
with Snap's help, to turn the tide, and reclaim the _Planetara_.
I was taken to my stateroom and locked there until Miko the brigand
leader should come to dispose of me. But I cared not what had
happened--Anita was alive!